If You Can Read This
by YugiDementia
Summary: Gen fic. Dean takes it a step further in the prank war.


Last night Dean had hit the bottle hard, but Sam had done worse. He hadn't really drank more, but he drank more than he could usually handle. Dean remembered after the grogginess settled from waking up. Jesus, when Sam was drunk he was really passed out, all spread out on the bed, on top of the covers. He could probably get away with anything right now.

Dean felt through his duffle for a marker and found a black sharpie. Perfect. They were still in the midst of the prank war, and it was his turn to strike back after Sam had replaced his Coke with sprite and teriyaki sauce. He carefully approached his sleeping brother and uncaps the marker, the strong scent making him dizzy. He leaned over and began marking up Sam's forehead. He pulled his hand away when it seemed Sam was stirring, but it's a false alarm. He just shifted and turned onto his side, facing Dean. Dean hurriedly finished his work on Sam's chin and tried to conceal his laughter.

Sam finally woke up about an hour later, looking like hell. Dean looked up from his newspaper as Sam was walking to the bathroom.

"Hey, you wanna go get breakfast?" Dean said casually to distract him.

"Isn't that your thing? I need to take a shower anyway."

"I don't feel like it today. Just go get us some grub, yeah?" He was dangling the keys invitingly.

"Yeah, ok. The usual?" Sam sighed, making the short trip to Dean and grabbing the keys.

"Of course." Sam put on his jacket and was out the door since he'd slept in all of his clothes, shoes included. Dean's face was stretched into a maniacal smirk. He was going to make Sam glad they jumped town to town.

Sam almost regretted not at least brushing his hair when he got in the Impala, but he was past actually caring. He had a small headache buzzing through him and maybe some pancakes or whatever could help him by having food in his stomach. He might get to skip throwing up.

The drive to the little homey cafe was as tedious as always. People probably honked at him for being slow, but Dean had left the Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap album blaring and he hadn't cared to adjust the volume.

He really smelled like he'd been out drinking so he was going to try to make this a quick trip. He waited behind an elderly lady before he could order. When she turned to leave with her carryout she gave him a dirty look. Sam shrugged at her because he didn't know what he'd done.

The girl at the counter must have been pretty new because she still had a perkiness about her. She was ready to take his order on the pad, hadn't even looked up yet. "Hi, uh can I get the pancakes with sausage and hashbrowns and extra syrup?"

"Of course. Is that all?"

"No, I'd also like a fruit bowl, whole wheat toast, and a side of ham."

"Alright, I'll have that out soon, sweetie," she handed him the receipt and smiled at him, eyes lingering a few seconds too long. Weird.

He heard a couple shuffle in behind him, discussing their honeymoon plans or something. The server came out with his food neatly boxed up, but she brought a few of the waitstaff with. He thanked her and was ready to run to the car, but he bumped the couple. He apologized about a thousand times before finally exiting the building all flustered.

Sam walked in all red in embarrassment, mission accomplished. He turned his back to Dean while he set the food out on the counter. "So how was your trip?" Dean taunted.

"This old lady gave me a weird look and then I ran into some couple and nearly knocked them over. When I apologized, the whole restaurant was staring. Other than that, good."

"Oh?"

"I'm gonna take a quick shower. Don't touch my ham," Sam warned, scrubbing a hand over his forehead.

Dean sat himself in front of his feast and Sam collected all his shower stuff. Such a girl. "Don't use up all the hot water!" Dean yelled for good measure.

"I never do!" Sam shouted from the bathroom.

Sam arranged everything for his shower that he desperately needed. Razor and shaving cream on the counter next to his hairbrush, towel and clean clothes on the closed toilet seat, his shampoo and conditioner in the shower, and a couple washcloths on the shower rack.

He started unbuttoning and stopped when he caught a glimpse of black on his face. He was really afraid to look, but he needed to know how hard he had to scrub. He examined it closely, it's words that form a sentence reading from his forehead to his chin.

"Dean!" Sam opened the bathroom door and faced his brother stuffing his face with sausage.

"Don't like your temporary tattoo?" he says through his full mouth.

"No, surprisingly I was never looking forward to 'If you can read this I need more come' being on my face."

Dean's composure broke and he was laughing hysterically. "So, your trip to the cafe makes me sense now, yeah?"

Sam wanted to hurl himself on Dean, knocking him off and breaking the chair, but they couldn't afford to pay for it. He curled his fist into balls until he thought he might bleed. "We're leaving. Today."

"Yeah, fine. First go take a shower, get that off your face, and finish breakfast. Then we'll go."

"You're gonna regret this. I swear to god." Sam slammed the door and Dean almost choked on his pancakes laughing.


End file.
